


One late night

by siriusshagmesenselessblack



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Be gentle, F/M, Fluff, Starts at the end of Prisoner of Azkaban when Sirius eloped from Hogwarts, and some smut, first story tbh, slowburn, sprinkled with fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2019-06-09 07:19:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15262284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siriusshagmesenselessblack/pseuds/siriusshagmesenselessblack
Summary: >>The moonlight painted their way in a pale light, shining in both their faces and she noticed hadn’t really looked at him. So she turned her head and brought her hand up to his face to softly push the strands of dark hair from his face, if you could call it a face at that state. It was a man, or at least she figured by the dark beard in his face, but it merely covered up the sunken cheeks and eyes, making him look more like a skeleton than an actual human.But nonetheless, it was a face she had seen before.“You are… Sirius. Sirius Black.”<<Evelynn is an orphan, 26 years old and got adopted by her aunt when she was a baby. One late night when she comes home from work at Flourish & Blotts, she encounters a certain wanted person and the choice she makes will change her life.





	1. Beginning

I - Beginning

Dark and gloomy was the morning in which big strands of fog clouded the scene of Diagon Alley like the curtain concealed the stage, even though the clock had already striked 6’clock of the morning in late summer. There was not a soul to be seen on the alley that stretched and curved under the viewer’s gaze, narrowed in by the rows of little shops on each side of the street, only interrupting it’s flow to open small entrances to rows of even more little, narrow alleys.  
An odd morning that was, when in the distance the clock on Gringott’s tower struck half past six, and on the sound of the last beat a tall and slender figure, just as odd looking as the morning was, fought its way through the almost impenetrable strands of fog which stuck to his cloak like dragon’s slobber. Even though the appearance of the figure was very strange, it seemed to be very determined towards its determination.  
The shabby black cloak of the figure quickly emerged from the sticky fog, and it had almost as many holes as the equally shabby pointed hat on top of the wizard who wore them both. Under the hat there appeared a narrow head with a pointy nose and thin lips. Surrounded it was by a mane of wild black hair with some greying stripes in it, and out of this wiry mess of black and grey hair peaked the most piercing pair of grey eyes, keeping track of everything that happened under their watch.  
The wizard came from the ministry of magic, the auror office to be specific and a night full of ungodly amounts of paperwork, only interrupted by the harsh bump of a colleague’s memo at his temples or a sip of strengthening solution from the charming young witch that took care of the aurors in the night shift with sweets, potions, coffee and kind, supporting words.  
It was hell at the ministry since Sirius Black, the most feared and at the current also most wanted wizard that walked the earth since You-Know-Who, had not only escaped yet again the thick, cold walls of the Azkaban prison, but also the security of Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  
The pale wizard wrinkled his nose and frowned. His limping step lead him towards a small café on the left side of the alley, which was the only open business at this hour.  
Over one of its windows hang a sign which wrote the name of the café, ‘The Prancing Hippogriff’.  
Even though Dumbledore, the current headmaster of Hogwarts, usually did a very good work, and that since a very damned-long time, this time he really screwed things up by locking a criminal who escaped a fortress in the middle of an ocean, many miles between him and the next scrape of land, on a high-cell with a simple, unenchanted lock between him and his freedom. And now that he escaped, all the work stuck with the poor bastards at the auror’s office.  
Impatient and freezing, the wizard pushed the door of the café open and himself inside. For late summer it was unruly cold, considering that just a few days ago at this hour the sun was already burning down from the sky.  
The grey wizard took off his hat and few strands of his dark hair laid themselves across his face.  
“Morning, Abbs!” From behind the counter a witch smiled kindly at him, putting down the cup that she had been polishing. He gave her a tired smile and looked around.  
The rooms of the café weren’t really that big, even though in the back there were stairs leading the way up to the top floor and which he knew housed a couple of small coffee tables, comfortable armchairs and on the walls hung a couple of portraits but whose residents were sleeping soundly. One of them, the wizard recognized. It was Xena Crobbert, former Minister of Magic and Headmistress of the Auror’s Office. Now she was dead, but the wizard actually knew her, worked under her watch. Some weeks before she died, Abbs had heard of a rumor that the Deatheaters had tried to hire her. He smiled, even though woe tainted his spirit, and he walked up to the counter.  
“Good morning, Mercy.”, he murmured softly from behind his beard and sat down on a stool. The witch smiled at him and eyed him with attentive, bright blue eyes.  
“You look terrible.”, she noted and swooshed her wand at a big pot and a big out of which it smelled delightfully of coffee.  
Abbs shrugged his shoulders and chuckled. “Somebody’s got to catch the eloping bastard.”, he sighed with a note of bitterness and relief washed over him as he saw a big cup of coffee floating over towards him.  
Mercy watched him carefully and nipped at her own cup. Her appearance had successfully escaped the teeth of time gnawing at her youth and looked like in her young thirties, her long black hair flowing in smooth, ebony waves down her back, framing her kind, light face.  
“A-Are there any news about him?”, she asked him, a hint of nervousness swinging in her voice but which was instantly concealed by an impression of strength and passion in her eyes.  
“So far we’re groping in the dark, and by this time he could be anywhere in and beyond the British borders.” The elder wizard sighed and snorted slightly into his cup. “But every Wizard in Europe knows his face and whom it belongs to, he cant’t run any further with all of those constantly prying eyes looking for him.”  
Mercy grinned at him, trying to lift his spirits. “You’ll find him, Abbs.”, she said, calmly. “If not you, then who I ask you!” Her fingers grazed at the back of his hands just before she stepped out from behind the counter and walked through the café with long, lithe strides.  
The witch stepped through a door and went to the back of the house where she lived. It was only one long hallway at whose sides the kitchen, her bedroom and the bathroom were.  
She followed the hallway with inaudible steps and stopped only at the end infront of a door made of dark wood with small engravings in it. She smiled as she looked at it, letting her fingers trace over the warm, smooth surface, her fingertips mapping out the small figures of flowers and animals. When the girl had been little, she had enchanted the door to change the engravings after which season it was. This was the door to her niece’s room, the other woman living in this house who helped her run the café.  
From behind the dark wood, Mercy heard the faint sound of snoring and she snickered. Appearantly Evelynn hadn’t yet emerged from the great beyond. Even though the younger witch had seen 23 summers, some things just wouldn’t change. Her niece had been living with her for over 20 years now and helped her out as much as she could since she had graduated from Hogwarts, it was okay to be tired.  
Slowly, the witch pushed down the doorhandle and with swift movements, she entered the room and the sweet scent of lavender filled her nostrils. The room’s darkness was only penetrated by the occasional flicker of silver light, peeking inside through the heavy curtains hanging in front of the windows and Mercy had to blink a couple of times before her eyes had adjusted themselves to the darkness to make out the silhouette of her niece lying on her bed under several blankets, snoring softly into strands of her chestnut hair.  
Around Evelynn lay some books which she had brought home from her work at Flourish & Blott’s, sprawled all over the bed and lying atop of each other next to it. The candle on the bedside table was burned down almost to the hem. She must’ve read the whole night, thought Mercy and swiftly made her way through the room and with a flick of her wand, the curtains flew open, followed instantly by a loud groan of her niece’s. She ripped her head around, only to bump head-first into the sharp edge of a book lying right next to her pillow. The woman’s hands flew quickly to the book and pulled it over to cover her face. The title of the book was “The rarest potions and how to make them.”  
“Damn it, Mercy, why now?”, came the semi-painful reaction and the younger woman turned towards her aunt, her emerald eyes glaring at her from behind the book. Her aunt smiled softly and in that same moment, the impression around her niece’s eyes softened.  
Even though they were in fact aunt and niece, they never called themselves that. After all that years that Mercy had raised Evelynn, the names ‘mom’ and ‘daughter’ were kind of inked into their skins.  
“You better get up, honey.” The mother grinned at her as Evelynn rose in her bed, rubbing her eyes slowly.  
“It’s almost seven…”  
“Wait, it’s what?!” With lightning speed, Evelynn jumped out of bed and ran through the door, straight into the bathroom. Mercy just chuckled. “Indeed almost seven, you better hurry, love…”  
She cherished moments like these. It made everything feel normal and let them forget their past. Softly, Mercy sighed, as her eyes followed her daughter as she ran from the dressing room to the bathroom, only to sprint back to pick up a piece of clothing she forgot.  
About twenty years ago, her family had asked Mercy to take care of a child, a little girl with emerald green eyes, not even three years old.  
Her parents had been killed in reaction to their relationship being non befitting of their social standing.  
Evelynn’s mother was one daughter of three of the noble, pure house of Snow.  
Unfortunately she lost her heart to a werewolf-halfblood, an abomination in the eyes of even the most tolerant house of purebloods. When Evelynn was three years old, a group of Deatheaters visited her parents’ house and murdered them while the little girl was soundly asleep.  
Aurors found her in a hollow tree and brought her to her mother’s family, who wouldn’t take care of her, so she was tossed out as soon as they found a fitting opportunity; Mercy.  
The little girl’s fate reminded the woman of her own. Being the bastard child of Cygnus Black, the head of the The most Noble and Most Ancient house of Black, she grew up in the family house at Grimmauld Place 12, even though she never called it home.  
His wife, Druella, despised her with all her heart and took every opportunity to make her feel that how much she defiled her daughters’ and her family’s splendid reputation.  
As soon as she was in the fitting age, they arranged a marriage with the eldest son of the equally ‘pure’ house of Snow. Mercy agreed to the marriage, as it was a chance for her to get out of her father’s house, and the wizard whom she got married to was very kind towards her, likewise his family, even though she was an illegitimate child.  
After 10 years of a loving marriage, Mercy’s husband, Leo, died in an accident including dragons. He died before he got to the closest infirmary and left Mercy alone.  
As they had no children, the Snow Clan didn’t have any use for her anymore. They offered her a small fortune and withdrew themselves from any responsibility to take care of her any further.  
From that point, the young witch was left to herself. She bought the small café from the money the Snow’s gave her and became her own woman, independent from anybody.  
One year after she opened The Prancing Hippogriff, she came in touch with her husband’s family once more.  
It was a calm and serene winter’s eve, the last customers had already left the cozyness of the café and Mercy was cleaning up, as the small bell which was hanging over the door and which she had enchanted to play a little tune every time a customer came in, sung to her surprise. It was Leo’s mother, holding a little creature in her arms, wrapped in a soft blanket.  
She proposed to Mercy that she took care of the little girl, of course part of the proposal was that they’d support her with the expanses she’d have to face.  
Mercy asked the elder witch why she came to her, what she had to do with that kid. She was Leo’s niece, the woman told Mercy, and after both her parents had died there was no one to take care of her.  
The scam about Anisa Snow and her boyfriend and later husband Belah Backlebott, who was a halfblood who had managed to get bitten by a werewolf, was nothing new to Mercy, she had heard about it, even though the family had tried to keep the unruly relationship and the child that was the result of it. They threatened her to ban her from the family, but she chose her love and married him, two years later, they were killed.  
She took the little girl in and soon, very soon developed the kindest mothering feelings for her.  
Mercy rose from the bed, shaking her head to clear her thoughts from the past. It was a riddle to her how this was already 20 years past. She left Evelynns room, who was still running about the flat, and returned to the café. There was still no one there except for Abbs, who was contently sipping his cup of coffee and reading the Daily Prophet, his brows knitted.  
“Mom, can you fetch me a cup?” Behind her jumped Eve through the door, her long chestnut hair dishevelled and her glasses sitting a tad too low on her nose. She wore a loose blouse and a skirt and had a bag hanging over her shoulder with the books she had borrowed from work quilling out of it.  
Mercy nodded and flicked her wand. One of the cups that didn’t lose a drop of its content, even if you flipped it around, floated towards her daughter who picked one of the freshly made cookies from the plate standing on the counter. Evelynn smiled at her gratefully. “Have a lovely day, mum!”, said she and gave her a kiss on the cheek before she jogged out of the café.  
“You too, dear!”  
Abbs had watched the scene, the corners of his mouth rising slightly and chuckling. “Overslept, hasn’t she?” He put down his cup and turned towards the woman behind the counter. “You two are very close… If I didn’t know better I would never notice that she is not your real daughter.”  
Mercy looked at him sharply. “Even if I didn’t carry her for nine months doesn’t make me any less of a mother nor does it make her any less of my daughter.” Her voice was lowered and her pale blue eyes burned from her feelings.  
Defensively, Abbs raised his hands and smiled at Mercy.  
“That’s not what I meant, Mercy. I’ve known you long enough to know how much you love that girl, I’d never doubt you being her mother, I mean you raised her, even though she isn’t your own!” He picked up his cup and papers and continued reading.  
Mercy stood silent and watched him. “You’re right. Sorry if I came on a little too strong.”  
“Now that’s alright.”  
“I just love her.”  
“I know, Mercy, I know.  
The mother turned her head, staring at where Evelynn had left the café seconds before.  
“They grow up so fast…”, murmured Abbs without turning his eyes from the papers.  
Mercy nodded.  
“They do.”


	2. Discovering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And ever so slowly the story takes its course... Sorry for having to wait so long, I've had a little bit of a block, but here it is! Any comment and critique is welcomed!

II - Discovering

Under Evelynn’s light step, the Diagon Alley ever so slowly came to life. Even though it was a quarter before seven, she had taken out the book from her bag and began to read while she quickly walked down the alley, destined to arrive at work punctually. Only once had she made the mistake to be some minutes late and was welcomed by a very annoyed chiefess, Josselyn Blotts. The elder witch didn’t look a day older than thirty but had a sharp tongue if her employees didn’t seem to take their work seriously. At the thought of the unfortunate incident, Evelynn shuddered and pushed her glasses a little bit higher up her nose.  
Apart from that, Joss was a very kind and young at heart woman, and she was fine with Evelynn taking some of her work to her home, as long as the book was returned in good condition and in time to be sold.  
The book the young woman had her nose buried in as she walked down Diagon Alley was “The rarest potions and how to make them” by Pollux Ebbyfaun, the very book she had spent the last night reading and admiring the techniques of the young aspiring author.  
He had been discovered by the second owner of the bookstore, Beatrice Flourish, who traveled through the whole world to find new inspiring writers who wanted their books published. It was also thanks to her that the whole store was filled to the ceiling with the best books from all over the world.  
Apart from the two owners and Evelynn herself there was also a younger salesman, Jean. With every day that the beginning of the school year neared his temper became worse and worse because that meant that there would be a hoard of students would storm into the shop, grab the books they needed and clutter up everything, meaning he would have to take it upon himself to put everything back to order.  
But all in all he was a very good person, and an even better colleague.  
Evelynn loved everything about her work in the bookstore that smelt of parchment and ink, and it was long past since last she had to look up from her book to know where she was going.  
Usually she got along without bumping into anything or anyone, but this day had to be different.  
Just as she was about to turn to the next page of her book, she collided with someone with such force that her glasses almost fell to the ground, pressing the air out of the witch’s chest, but leaving enough for her to almost gripe about the someone she ran into.  
But before she could do that, she raised her eyes to see, who it was, and her breath hitched in her throat.  
A pair of pale blue eyes looked down at her coldly out of a face with harsh features and surrounded by a long ash blond hair. In the corner of her eye she saw him hastily stuffing something in the inside pocket of his cloak, but before she could direct her eyes to where the thing had disappeared to make out what it was, a pair of almost white and haggard hands pushed her away from him before the wizard stormed down the street, leaving Evelynn with a feeling of wonder dwelling up inside her.  
“Oh my…”, murmured Evelynn, putting her glasses back in place as she watched him run. What had that been about anyway?  
“What a turbulent morning.”

There was already a small crowd waiting outside Flourish & Blott’s as Evelynn arrived at work. There were only some small scraps of fog left hanging over the street, looming above the heads of some eager first graders with family members, pushing and whispering as she passed by and hoping that she would open the shop for business.  
Most of them were new faces, but there also were some familiar ones. One for example was a little chubby-faced boy with dark hair and a shy aura about himself, accompanied by an elderly but nonetheless very frightening woman who appeared to be his grandmother or aunt. She wore a long dark coat and had a red purse swinging at her arm, but the most striking piece of clothing on her was indeed the wide hat on top of her head, bearing a stuffed bird of some sort. “And I continue to tell you, Neville-“, the woman whispered hastily towards the boy, whose head was hanging lower and lower with every word she said. “This year you really must get the hang of Transfiguration, or you will damage the family honor permanently! What would your parents think of you- no, what am I saying, they would still be proud of you, but anyhow, it is still in your best interest to do your best in not pulling down the name of Longb-“ Her whispering stopped as Evelynn passed them by. “Good morning!”, she smiled at them, and the boy answered with a muttered “good morning for you too” and a shy smile, while the woman at his side just nodded and gave Evelynn a court smile.  
They stood quiet and waited for her to get into the shop, but the moment the door closed behind Evelynn, the whispering went on.  
There was not much to chatter on about these days, the heavy cloak of fear hovered over the every wizard and witch’s mind. Nearly every day there were either reports of people who were eyewitnesses of some of Black’s crimes or of the ongoing investigations on his whereabouts in the Daily Prophet, and with every day passing these news and interviews and whatnot only fanned the flames of fear the people had of Sirius Black, and even more so in the hearts of those who were old enough to have witnessed the times when The Dark Lord had been the grandest dark wizard walking the earth and they all wished him to be behind the thick walls and freezing cold bars under the watch of the dementors.

When Evelynn entered the shop, her coworkers were already in full swing, books which had been misplaced by the customers of yesterday, flying through the air to their brothers were sitting in the shelves, slightly over the head of unruly blonde hair of Jean, her co-worker, who was bent over a small hutch, cussing at the gnarling and biting “Monsterbooks of Monsters”. When Evelynn approached him, she saw that he wore bandages on his hands and knuckles to protect himself from the little pointy teeth of the books.  
“What’s their fuzz about?”, asked she and Jean ejaculated a pained howl. One of the books had buried its tiny teeth in the soft flesh under his thumb when he had tried to stroke its back.  
"New books, we sold'em all out yesterday and the new ones are especially sneaky...", He pushed another book down that tried to crawl its way up the fence of the little hutch.  
"Good morning, Evelynn!", sounded the melodic voice Josselyn Blott through the little store and thus came one of the owners through the backdoor, holding a couple of purring books in her arms. Evelynn could see from the dark circles under her eyes that the witch has had little sleep and could only imagine what had kept her up last night. "It's so good you're finally here, I wanted to clean up last night but I was busy elsewhere and fell asleep before I knew it." A little smirk crept up the corners of her plumb lips, and Evelynn's brow rose slightly over the rim of her glasses as she chuckled softly. If she wouldn't know better she'd think that last night, Joss had had a nightly surprise visit by one of her 'especially close friends' which had kept her from putting her business into order.  
One time, a couple of months ago, Evelynn had to come back into the store around midnight to collect a book she had forgotten, only to run into a young, gorgeous looking witch with smeared lipstick and disheveled hair, stuffing a small piece of clothing into the pocket of her coat, disappearing with a little giggle.  
Inside Josselyn was cleaning up the mess they'd made, explaining to her employee that this was part of a special agreement with her wife, the second owner of the bookstore, that they could do whatever they liked with whomever they liked as long as it didn't hurt the other and there were no feelings involved.  
Eve remembered she had been a bit confused when she returned to work at the morrow, but a few days later all the strange thoughts about the incident were water under the bridge.  
"Morning boss.", Evelynn greeted the witch and helped her put the books into the hutch with the other ones. "New batch?"  
Joss nodded, the blood-red hair in her ponytail bouncing. Usually she wore her long hair unbound but today she had put it up to hinder it from ending up in the books' little mouths. "Yes, Beatrice brought them along this morning, that's why they're in such a dreadful mood."  
"Well let's hope the customers wind up with less pain than I did, Joss. Cm'on, let's open the doors."  
Contributing to the gladness of the whole staff, Jean indeed was the only one getting hurt by the books on that day. After Josselyn had put the already calm 'Monsterbooks of Monsters' into the hutch, the other ones calmed down as well and were a delight to see.  
The day went by very fast and by the end of it, Evelynn could feel the soreness in every muscle when the bell of the door sung its song as the last customer left the small shop. They all let out a collective sigh.  
"Thank you so much, you two, I expect to see none of your faces until 10 tomorrow, we've really outdone ourselves this time!", cried Josselyn from upstairs as she dragged herself down the steps. "Now go home, both of you."  
It was an order the two happily obliged, both Jean and Evelynn collected their things from the backroom and closed the door behind them.  
It was already close to midnight and the usual strands of fog already lingered in the midst of Diagon Alley. Jean knitted his brows, his breath coming in little clouds from his nostrils, condensing in the cold night air. "Good night, Eve.", he muttered in the usual dryness and stalked up into the darkness of the broad alley.  
"Good night for you, too.", murmured Evelynn softly and pulled her coat a bit tighter around her figure. Jean quickly vanished in the darkness in one of the narrow paths between the houses and it was only a few seconds later that Evelynn heard a loud bang of his apparating and a slight sense of loneliness lingered in the pit of her stomach, which she quickly pushed aside. After that many years of being alone she got the hang of pushing these feelings away until she had a calm environment to allow herself to dwell on them.  
The quiet darkness lying in front of her wasn’t quite that sort of environment.  
“Lumos.”  
With a sharp intake of breath she took her first step of her way home.

Her feet had lead her almost halfway to her home as she stopped, her green eyes darting through the darkness around her. Hadn’t she heard something? She waited a couple seconds, only to hear the low, faint growl, coming from every and nowhere all at once.  
Her fingers wrapped tighter around her wand until her knuckles turned white and she sharply looked around, waiting for a low crisping noise of ice and a hiss coming from the mouth of a dementor, but even at the thought of it made her hair stand on end  
“Lumos.”  
The tip of her wand started glowing in a pale light. A feeling of anxiety filled Evelynn as she tried to suppress the memory of a picture of a round mouth, framed by flat, dead and ashy-grey lips, and the scent of death and despair inside her head.  
In the last weeks she’s had some of these flashbacks of her past, all of them leaving her with a certain feeling of uneasiness seeping into her very core.  
The darkness around her started swallowing her up, despite Lumos she could see less and less of the shops on her left and right hand until she had to raise her eyes up to the stars, as the faint sound of her footsteps stopped and she waited to gaze up into the sky. ‘That night… it looked just like that night.’ She pushed the thought away, it was late and by no means the hour to think of the past.  
She continued to follow her path but suddenly something glued her eyes to the firmament. Hadn’t she seen something? At first glance she thought it was a shooting star, the glimmering light of it plummeting towards her vastly, the light becoming brighter and brighter until suddenly it faded… The young witch blinked a few times, her emerald eyes glowing in the pale light of the moon peeking from behind the strands of clouds. Maybe this had been an illusion, a trick of her tired eyes?  
She squinted her eyes and scanned the firmament for any sign of the lost comet but the shining light was nowhere to be found.  
Just about to continue her way back home, she flinched.  
She caught a sight of a dark creature with wide wings appearing in the night sky, flying in circles about a mile above Diagon Alley, as if it were looking for something or… somebody.  
Evelynn’s breath fell very silent and slowly she tried to retreat into the shadow of one of the houses; She knew exactly what this was.  
But her carefulness had been too little too late, the creature had already seen her, its huge body stopping in its flight and darting right towards the surface of the earth, towards her…  
The wave of night cold air came down heavy on Evelynn as the Hippogriff landed gracefully, pushing her down and forcing her onto her knees. The young woman felt the adrenaline surging through her veins and sharpening her senses and with widened eyes slowly she raised her head to look the creature standing a few steps in front of her in the eye.  
Never before had she seen a Hippogriff before, not in the flesh at least. The beautiful creature’s darting amber-colored eyes glowed in the dark and watched her every move. //Hippogriffs are creatures that one should both love and fear… Their wingspan can come up to 28 foot when extended… have head and front legs of giant eagles and hind legs and bodies of horses… The talons on their feet can get as long as half a foot and can be compared to daggers… cruel, steel-colored beaks and large, brilliantly orange eyes...//  
The description of the Hippogriffs which she had known long ago by heart rang inside her head and she felt herself tremble. If this was an untamed creature, this would be her last minutes wandering on this fine earth. But if this wasn’t the case…  
The Hippogriff turned his head and snapped his beak at her as she slowly rose from the ground, cautious that she wouldn’t provoke him to bury his claws inside he body or snap her neck with his powerful beak. //When approaching a specimen, it is extremely advisable to earn its respect first...//  
Ever so slowly, Evelynn bowed her head towards the proud creature as low as she could. If it were an untamed Hippogriff it would have had attacked her by now, wouldn’t it?  
And trying to calm her breath, she waited, her back protesting from the uncomfortable position. Nothing happened, time was passing and she didn’t know whether mere seconds had passed or whole minutes or even hours, she just waited for any sign that would not mean her immediate death.  
A low rumble came from the creature’s chest which some might even have described with ‘kind’ and she heard the rustling of feathers.  
Slowly, a feeling of ease came upon her and slightly she craned her neck to once again look the Hippogriff straight in the eye.  
At first he just looked at her, as though trying to decide whether this frail creature had earned his trust or not, but after a while he bowed his strong neck at her as well and Evelynn let out a breath she hadn’t know she’d been holding.  
She erected from her position and stepped towards the beautiful creature, slowly and her hand extended towards him, but the Hippogriff didn’t care about this little act of kindness and turned a little bit to the side.  
Evelynn’s fear and the light of the stars had sharpened her sight and her breath hitched in her throat.  
The clouds that had covered up the moon cracked open and the pale light fell onto the scene in the middle of Diagon Alley, onto Evelynn’s brown her, into her brilliantly green eyes, onto the elegant and strong figure of the Hippogriff… and on what was lying on his back.  
What at first looked like some sort of piled up blanket groaned lowly.  
“Oh dear.” Evelynn’s voice was hoarse from the cold air and little use since she had left from work and the Hippogriff snarled at her as she stumbled towards him. Was it a human? Was he hurt? And why on earth was he here? Her hands were shaking when she softly laid them onto the person’s back. She could feel the bones of his ripcage underneath the rough fabric of the coat he wore, the body felt cold underneath her fingertips.  
//I have to get them home...//  
But who was the stranger?  
His face was covered by strands of his dark, knotted up hair which hang unruly over his shoulders. The hand that clawed at the collar the Hippogriff wore around his neck was very slender and she could figure that the man hadn’t eaten properly in a long time…  
“I have to take a look at him...”, murmured Evelynn and looked towards the Hippogriff who looked back at her. He seemed to understand and carefully loosened the grip that his wings had on the man’s legs so she could turn the man’s body a little bit to the side. The front of the white shirt he wore was covered in large dark spots.  
“Shit. Okay, I have to take him home with me.”  
The Creature growled threateningly at her, his wings snapping back and pressing against his legs.  
“Please, if I don’t take him with me, he’ll die.”  
This seemed to change the creature’s mind and even though he seemed kind of reluctant, he once more let her come near him and she took a soft grip in the man’s shoulders.  
“Can you hear me?” Her attempt to calm her voice was only partially successful, but the man stayed silent. “I need you to come with me or your wounds will-” She didn’t finish her sentence, the wounds were intense, but to what extend she couldn’t say.  
The man grunted as she pulled him from the creature’s back which watched her every move. He still clutched onto the collar of his companion.  
“There, there...” Softly she laid her hand on top of his and grabbed it carefully. He let go of it and she braced herself against the weight of the slender man. He really seemed to be all skin and bones and Evelynn hoped that he would make the rest of the way home…  
The moonlight painted their way in a pale light, shining in both their faces and she noticed hadn’t really looked at him. So she turned her head and brought her hand up to his face to softly push the strands of dark hair from his face, if you could call it a face at that state. It was a man, or at least she figured by the dark beard in his face, but it merely covered up the sunken cheeks and eyes, making him look more like a skeleton than an actual human.  
But nonetheless, it was a face she had seen before.  
“You are… Sirius. Sirius Black.”  
At once the human came to life and he let out a squeal. Violently he pushed her away from him and Evelynn heard the high pitched sound of her wand falling on the ground.  
The man’s haggard face wore a mask of fear, his eyes widened and his breath coming in painful pants. Evelynn slowly raised her hands.  
“Please, I don’t want to hurt you.”, she said, letting every word roll from her tongue. “You are hurt and if your wounds are not taken care of, they might cause you even more harm.”  
The man’s voice was a hoarse croak. “Wh-Who are you?” The words seemed to come out painfully and he grabbed onto one of the dark stains on his shirt. His hand came back red.  
“I- My name is Evelynn. Evelynn Backlebott and I-”  
She couldn’t continue. The sudden surge of panic and the wounds seemed to have had their effects on the man. He collapsed and his frail body hit the ground.


	3. Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius struggles and so does Evelynn (a little bit of background story)

III

 

//Thump...Thump...Thump...//  
The drops that came down the broken water faucet that Mercy forgot to Reparo every single day were the only sound being heard in the café.  
That and the unsteady flat breathing of the man lying on one of the tables. It hadn’t been long since the warmth, that came from the glowing coals in the fireplace had started to seep through his clothes and warming up the cold skin underneath. As did it warm that of the woman who was sitting next to him, a scrutinizing look coming from her bright green eyes. He seemed to have passed out as he didn’t flinch when she started to get rid of the dirty shirt he wore underneath. The clothes they give them in Azkaban, she thought as she softly pulled them over his head to discover the wounds he had underneath.  
Under the thin, pale skin a few broken ribs pushed against the surface, a big dark-red bruise covering them indicated a heavy push or blow, maybe a failed attempt of Stupefy? The man had many of these bruises covering his body, but what caused the excessive bleeding were countless cuts and gashes on his skin.  
Some of the deeper ones were still bleeding and it became very clear to Evelynn that if she didn’t get a healing potion on him right now, the man before her would not see the next day’s sun rise.  
Quickly she made her way to the café’s kitchen, sending Incendio towards the stove. Only a few seconds later, a small fire started to crackle in it. The young witch looked around in the small kitchen  
Okay, now what did she need? A dagger’s tip of unicorn-dust, blended into half-a-mass of dragonblood, then boil it, stirring counter-clockwise for 69 seconds… 

She knew the recipe, which she had once found in a fairly old book about potions, a gift of one of her professors, by heart, but she couldn’t help but notice her hand’s trembling while she was stirring. It wasn’t quite fear that caused her whole body to tense up once her thoughts traveled back to the former inmate of the top-security wizarding prison.  
But who would not have felt the same way when a man who was accused of the murder of Peter Pettigrew and twelve muggles was laying unconscious in their house?  
Evelynn took a deep reassuring breath, trying to calm her nerves, as the potion started to emit green smoke.  
Even though she knew very clearly what actions the dark man was accused of, he was also an injured man who would die if she didn’t help him.  
If she did help him... But wouldn’t it be for the greater good if he’d just vanish from this fine earth, his victims be revenged and the wizarding society safe from a wuthering beast?  
The young witch’s heart sank and she added four pinches of dried Mandrake skin. The potion poofed and she stopped her stirring. It was done.  
If anyone knew she was helping the wanted inmate, only the stars knew what would happen to her… She’d be just as much a criminal as he was right now.  
But despite everything, there were no witnesses who could support or at that point refute the charges held up against him.  
And with that thought in mind, she poured a scoop of the potion into a cup and left the kitchen.

The body of Sirius Black laid motionless and almost serene where she’d left him. Odd it was that it almost surprised her he hadn’t risen and stormed off yet, but on the other hand he hadn’t even been strong enough to walk from where the he had fallen off the hippogriff, let alone taking two steps from the tables he was lying on.  
With slow and easy steps she approached him and watched as his chest rose and fell with almost too much time between his breathing in and out, but not. Evelynn felt the heat radiating from his body and allowed herself to close her eyes for just a moment, and again she heard that little voice telling her to strangle the man who had brought so much pain and woe onto the world, letting him breathe out his last breath and end it all.  
She opened her eyes again, bright emerald eyes flying to the haggard mask that was his face. By the light of the fire she saw exactly how worn out he was.  
His skin was paper-thin and dry, she could see the smaller and bigger veins directly underneath it, at some places it even had burst a couple of times they had scarred. His hair had grown very long past his hips and knotted so badly it almost looked as if it had matted. His clothes might have fitted at some point but right now his body just looked like a couple of sticks in a sack. But what really caught her eye were the tattoos. Of course there was his prison number on his neck which she’d seen a hundred times in the papers, but the rest of it made her breath catch in her throat. His torso was covered in all kinds of runes, signs she had seen in astronomy back at her time in Hogwarts, and some she didn’t know at all. They contrasted from his gaunt and abused body in the deepest and darkest black like a form of adornment… or armor.  
“What has the world done to you?”, she whispered and felt tears watering her eyes. Quickly she blinked them away, now was not a time for sorrow and empathy from her side, she needed to help him, even though her conscience told her otherwise.  
It wouldn’t be right to do him any harm before she and the world hadn’t heard his side of the story. She remembered the nervous chatter in the ‘Prancing Hippogriff’ when the message of Black’s escape first made the news. But even though every paper of name wrote page after page about him and what he’d done, there was no hint of real evidence such as witnesses whatsoever.  
The potion in the cup in her hand sizzled silently and Evelynn remembered where she and who exactly the man before her was. She put the cup onto a smaller table next to her and did her best to tilt his head up against her upper arm and torso without cutting off is breathing.  
The breath hitched slightly and she felt him trying to turn his head away. He wasn’t unconscious then.  
“Bla-… Sirius, I need you to drink this, please...”, she murmured softly and rose the cup to his chin. He pressed his lips together slightly in response. “Listen, dear...” Her voice was softer now and she caught his head gently with her hand, letting it rest on his mane of wiry dark hair. “I need to do this, let it be with or without your help, but it will be your last if you work against me, so please-”, she was pleading. “-Please drink this and let me help you.”  
She wasn’t sure if he’d heard her, but his lips wouldn’t budge. After some seconds of waiting, she pushed her fingers through his tightly shutted lips, ignoring the low groan emerging from the depths of his chest, and between his jaws. At the same time she rose the cup to his lips let the potion slowly pour into his mouth. For a moment she felt the man tense up, as if trying to collect all of his strength to arch himself out from her grip and away from what might or might not kill him. But it wasn’t enough and his efforts ended as quickly as they ended and he slumped back against her chest, this time with his full weight. Evelynn puffed but caught him. With slow gulps the man in her arms swallowed the potion to the last drop.  
“I’m sorry...”, she murmured against his hair as the last drop ran down his throat. She really was. He couldn’t know who she was and what her intentions were, of course he’d struggle against her.  
His breaths slowly began to calm down and become more regular and for the first time in what seemed way too many hours, Evelynn felt the soft huff of sleepiness in her neck. Her work, for now, was done, and so she grabbed a chair, sat down and laid her head onto the table, next to the man whose wounds slowly started to heal.

“A hippogriff in Diagon Alley?” The bright blue eyes of Mercy lightened up questioningly. It was almost at the crack of dawn and she was leaning against the kitchen counter in the back of the Prancing Hippogriff, holding a cup of tea in her hands and wrapped in a deliciously fluffy bathrobe. On the stove next to her sat a heavy cast-iron pan and the smell of frying eggs with herbs filled the air. Evelynn’s eyes were still half-closed but the smell of brewing coffee started to bring her back to life.  
“Yes, big one…”, she mumbled and tried to take a sip, immediately feeling the sting of greediness. “At first I thought it was a dream, or an oddly shaped comet, but it turned out to be a hippogriff, oh mum, I have never seen something this majestic, and this man was hanging on his back…” A shadow went over her face and her mind travelled back to where she had spent the night. “It seems almost like a dream, Mercy.”  
It really did. Her neck still ached from the uncomfortable angle on the surface of the table but when she woke up, the pain was the only evidence left to assure her that everything that had happened last night had been very real.  
She had opened her eyes the next morning, Mercy’s warm hand on her shoulder and a worrying expression on her face, much like the one she wore now, only to see that her patient had eloped.  
Evelynn sighed and took a sip from her coffee, now cold enough to not scald her tongue. She didn’t know why she’d built her hopes up, didn’t even know to what. Black was a man on the run and to stay in a café at the most popular shopping alley for all sorts of wizards and which also was a gathering point for aurors and other folk from the Ministry. But anyhow, even though it had been clear that he wouldn’t stay for long, she had hoped to hear at least a bit about his story, to find out if he was indeed the monster that the world saw in him.  
But that was now in the past and she had to focus on not getting involved with the Ministry whatsoever.  
The thought that she might have been seen with the hippogriff and who he had on his back made her heart sink and her stomach quench with worry. If they found out whom she had helped…  
“Worries are for when it happens, dear.”  
Evelynn flinched and looked up at Mercy. Her smart, bright eyes looked directly at her, her brows raised up a little. She had a way of looking right through a person and give them a feeling she knew exactly what they were thinking and feeling. It made them feel calm and safe, even though that might not be the case.  
With a swift movement, she put a plate with the fried eggs before her foster child and gave her a small smile as she sat down next to her. “Eat up before they get cold.”  
Evelynn looked into her eyes for a moment, then nodded and started to eat. Her mother watched her and a loving smile spread across her face.  
“Remember when you woke me up during a storm because you were afraid of the thunder? You coulnd’t sleep and were hungry, so I made you some eggs!”  
“Yes, I remember.”, Evelynn answered, a strand of her brown hair falling into her eyes. “And I also know that I used to hate fried eggs but yours made me fall in love, mum.” She winked at her mother and put another fork into her mouth.  
“And you wouldn’t sleep in my bed because you wanted to fight the thunder alone-”  
“I am pretty sure I never said that!”, interposed and giggled.  
“Won’t you let a tale-teller have some fun?” Mercy laughed and threw her head back, exposing her long white neck.  
“Maybe next time, oh great teller of tales, Ma’am!”  
They laughed together until Evelynn sighed. “Mercy, I’ve been having some of the dreams again.”  
One of Mercy’s hands laid themselves ontop of her daughter’s. She staid silent for a moment and Evelynn closed her eyes at the warmth of her mother’s hands. The simple gesture was so full of fondness.  
“What happenes, dear?” Mercy’s voice had fallen low. “Please tell me.”  
Even though she didn’t want to, the younger witch’s body tensed up. The dreams were what kept her up at night, books were the best way to not fall asleep and see what just waited to haunt her.  
“I see my-… my mother and my father, before me but far away at the same time. She’s crouching on the floor, father’s just lying there, and they can’t stand up, even when they try they get pushed back down by shadows. Mother tries it, they hurt her, she cries, Mercy, she can see me, but they can’t. She tries to get to me, again and again, but every time she fails it tears her up to pieces, until-“ Her voice breaks and she lifts her other hand to brush away her upwelling tears. “But she doesn’t die. She won’t die even when the shadows push her down and she’s being torn apart. She doesn’t care, and-“  
“Stop.”  
Even if she would’ve wanted to, Evelynn was a sobbing mess by now, tears drawing paths down her cheeks, her whole body trembling.  
Mercy stood up and wrapped her arms around her daughter. Even though she wasn’t her daughter by birth, Mercy was still the woman who had brought Evelynn up, raised her and had been there for her when thunders and dreams had threatened her life. There was no other person to whom she could be so open and honest and vulnerable, it didn’t matter that she had not given birth to her, still she was the mother her birthmother never had the chance to be.  
“Tell me about them, Mum.”, she mumbled low against Mercy’s shoulder, her own arms wrapped around her as well.  
The dark haired witch took a deep breath. “Will that help you, dear?”  
Evelynn nodded, trying to calm her breath.  
“Well, you know that I married a young wizard of the Snow clan, also a family of the sort that call themselves ‘pure-bloods’, for some reason…My father, Cygnus Black, was married to a woman called Druella, but I was the result of a, as they both called it, fateful mistake of youth. My birthmother died when I was very young and because they wouldn’t want anyone to find out about Cygnus Black’s bastard they kept me with them, hoping I would just die or run away at some point. But against their hopes I grew to be a persistent thorn in their ice-cold flesh, so when I was of age, they just married me off to whichever family they needed a connection with but wouldn’t want one of their precious daughters to have any sort of relationship with-“  
“Wait, so they just decided you get married to anyone they seemed fit? Isn’t that a bit-“  
“Medieval? Well that’s pretty much how it goes, even these days… But I was happy to get out of this hell!” In Mercy’s eyes were glowing as she let her memories pass inside her. Had it really been that long? “As I told you-“, she continued, her gentle fingers playing with her daughter’s hair, whose breathing became calmer by the second. “-I married someone of the Snow-family, a less popular but nonetheless more gentle kind of people. My sister-in-law was your mother, Anissa.” The elder witch paused to see if Evelynn had questions, but she remained silent.  
“She was the kindest person I have ever encountered. Shortly after the relationship between me and Leo, her brother, had been decided, I moved into the family house and your mother was one of those who welcomed me in their home. And even though the behavior of the family towards me was polite and courteous towards me, she was the only one whose actions didn’t feel like an act. I was very sad when she disappeared shortly after I arrived and many months had passed when I heard why and where she went. Shortly after their death.”  
“Their death?” Mercy didn’t see Evelynn’s face, but she could hear the gloom had laid itself upon her face.  
“Yes. Your mother was, as I later heard, the Snow-family’s troublemaker. She was never really one to obey the conventions her whole family did. Her siblings, even Leo, married wizards and witches of names of renown. Anissa, well, she fell in love with what her parents and the people they surrounded themselves with considered one of the lowest beings. I met your father once, a charming young wizard full of plans and dreams and love for your mother, who loved him just as much. To their misfortune his father had been a muggle and he got himself bitten by a werewolf when he was out striving through the woods. A muggle-born and a werewolf were two things her parents wouldn’t accept in the husband of their beautiful daughter.  
But nevertheless, she persisted. They eloped together and were never heard of again until a friend of them found their bodies in their home, next to a little crying bundle…”  
And with that she ended and softly pulled away to look into Evelynn’s eyes. The bright green orbs with little flecks of brown in them looked at her absently. She seemed calm.  
“Are you okay dear?”  
Evelynn shrugged. “I suppose. I mean I never really knew them so I guess it is easier… But I really wish I did.”  
“They loved your very much, love. Even though you never knew them.”  
“I know.”


	4. Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter Evelynn meets two Characters that might not be too unfamiliar to us, hope you enjoy it!

IV

Evelynn’s breath came out in small puffs as she calmly walked up Diagon Alley from which the fog of the night slowly disappeared and revealed the small shops and buildings like a curtain on a stage.  
Her feet were cold, but she rarely noticed. Her eyes were set on the ground before her, not focused on anything really, her mind somewhere else entirely.  
She knew thinking about Black wouldn’t do her any good, he was the one who had vanished in the first place after all. But some part in her was anything but content with the story ending like this, too fast and unresolved. She didn’t want to admit it but still inside her something ached to find out what really happened, who this man really was and if he was indeed the evil killer everyone thought him to be.  
Her walking stopped and she raised her eyes to the shop before her. At this time of day, merely 6 in the morning, the streets were empty except for nightshifters from the ministry and dubious creatures lurking in Knockturn Alley. But nonetheless Evelynn spotted behind the glass front of Flourish & Blott’s two figures moving, so she stepped forward and opened the door of the shop.  
The familiar scent of leather, parchment and candlewax filled her nostrils as she walked in, welcomed by the surprised look of two very familiar witches. They were both holding cups of tea in their hands, steam emitting from them.  
“Eve, what are you doing here? I thought I’d told you to come in later!”, cried Josselyn sitting her cup onto the counter which she was leaning on. Her brown eyes were filled with worry as she took a few steps towards Eve.  
“You look like you barely slept an hour last night, are you alright?”   
The younger witch relaxed into the touch as Joss put her hand on Evelynn’s arm.  
“I had a rough night and couldn’t sleep so I decided to come in early today…” She smiled faintly at the redheaded witch.  
“But still you shouldn’t outspend yourself like that, dear.”, spoke the witch behind Josselyn and Eve laid eyes on Beatrice Flourish, the second owner of the shop. Her kind silver eyes looked her over with the same kind of worry in them as Joss’ eyes had before, but also with a hint of alluring openness that daunted the person looking into them to spill their deepest secrets. Out of the two, Beatrice was the one to travel countries and seek for new books to fill their shelves with for she had an eye for special things, and persons. Evelynn had seen her only a couple of times, most of them only to get books delivered and receiving instructions on where to present them and which ones to hold back just a bit longer. The way the mindful witch looked at her only made it more clear to Evelynn that she really must look like she wasn’t herself, with circles under her eyes and her hair standing from her head in a tangled mess she just couldn’t tame.  
“Now, now, sit down and I’ll go fetch you a nice cup of tea, aye?”, said Joss and pushed her employee into a cushioned armchair and with a swoosh of her wand, two more appeared for her and Beatrice to sit.  
“Accio, cup.” A small porcelain cup came flowing towards Evelynn and from a red little kettle Josselyn poured her a steaming cup.  
Beatrice settled into the armchair next to Evelynn, pulling her long legs up and folding them over the armrest of her chair, enjoying the nice warmth of the shop and the cup in her hand. For the first time in almost a day Evelynn felt herself relax. Even though she couldn’t tell the two witches about what happened last night, she knew they wouldn’t interrogate her on it, even though Beatrice still had that mischievous and inquiring glim in her eyes. But she didn’t act on that, and Evelynn was beyond grateful for that.   
They sat there for a while chatting and drinking tea until rays of sunlight started peak over the roofs into the little shop and they knew it was time to ready themselves for customers. Not before long after, Jean arrived at work, this time in a better mood than usual and this filled the witches with pleasant anticipation for the following day. It was the ‘new-books-day’.

Soon enough the shop was filled with customers and Evelynn started to forget about what happened last night as her limbs commenced to ache slightly by carrying boxes and piles of books that thrilled her; a new book of Pollux Ebbyfaun, as thick as a hand’s width, wrapped in smooth, slightly red leather.  
She took a step back to admire her work on the shelf she used to present the new books as her back hit something firm and… warm.  
“So sorry.”, she mumbled and immediately thought that it had been a customer and turned around. She’d been right. The tall man who stood behind her watched her with curious, dark eyes. These eyes sat in a pale face with a stern impression in his features and streaks of somewhat oily looking black hair falling into it. His eyes were as dark as his hair or his wizard’s cloak which hugged his slender frame, but still they were the most captivating thing about him, pulling in everyone who looked into them into a dark maelstrom of whatever might live underneath. He watched her with a captivating, eager inquiry which kept Evelynn from forming a coherent sentence for a few seconds until she pushed her mane over her shoulder and looked at him questioningly.  
“Is there any way I can help you, Mr. …” The end of her question just floated in the air between them as she didn’t really know whom she was talking to.   
“Snape.” His voice was a low, though a bit crackling, purr. “Severus Snape. And yes there is. I am looking for a book.”  
A smile crept up the corners of Evelynn’s mouth. “Well I think you came to the right place, I heard this shop has quite a number of those in stock.” She smiled at him, waiting for any sign of a reaction of him and for a split second she thought she had seen a little twitch of a smile in the corner of his lips.  
“So what book are you looking for, Mr Snape?”, she continued, her bright green eyes watching his every move. The man had a certain aura around him, something gloomy like a great part of his personality was kept behind a curtain only to be seen when he pleased.  
He answered her look with his own out of deep dark orbs, wondering himself what she might be seeing on him that she continued to hold his stare so intently. “A book on potions. Polyjuice Potion, to be exact.”  
At his remark to which potion he needed a recipe her brow quirked up a little. “Do you use the skin of treesnake or a dragon’s vitreous body?”  
Her knowledge about the rather rare choice of ingredient surprised him slightly. The expression on his face told her that he hadn’t expected her to know of this variation in the recipe but the fact that she knew her books so well seemed to impress him.  
“Dragon’s vitreous body.”, he answered, having regained his composition, with a stern look on his face.  
With one fluid motion she slid past him and headed towards a row of shelves. “A rather… unusual ingredient you want to use, Mr. Snape. And pretty damn difficult to get access to.” Had Evelynn looked at his face at that moment she would have observed a flicker of distaste in his impression at her cursing, but she had turned her back on the man and kneeled in front of a bookshelf made of dark wood. It was filled with the greatest variation of books one could find, old books, young books, small ones that she could fit in the palm of her hand and some that she needed the strength of both her arms to carry, some with covers made of smooth lamb skin and others of the sensitive skin of a fire crab. Luckily they weren’t all as in need of special care as the Monsterbooks of Monsters, whose low growling could be heard even from the upper story of the shop where Evelynn was kneeling, her eyes set intently on the small golden letters written on the backs of the books.  
“Damn, I could have sworn that I have seen it here…”, she mumbled under her breath so her customer couldn’t hear her. Her fingers ghosted over the backs of the books before her when a thought crossed her mind. Gently she pushed some books to the side and reached in the space behind them, her fingertips seeking for the familiar sensation of the rough surface of a book she had spent many evenings behind.  
“Here it is!”, she said happily and pulled the book out from its hiding place. “Somebody must have hidden it to make sure nobody else buys it.” She handed the man the copy of The rarest potions and how to make them who took it with a hesitant “Thank you, Miss…” . For a short while they stood on the spot and Evelynn looked him straight in the eyes until she noticed that the pause seemed more than a tad awkward.  
“Oh uhm so sorry, my name is Evelynn.”, she mumbled sheepishly and brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear.  
The man’s brows knitted slightly, then he nodded and made his way downstairs without another word, leaving a confused young witch upstairs.  
She sighed and scratched the back of her head. “Why, that was unusual.”, Evelynn murmured to herself. Something was off about that man, apart from his dramatic leave and facial expressions, that she just could not wrap her head around. But the customers she had encountered in her last years of working in the book shop taught her that very much all of their customers were somewhat special which made it not that noteworthy to her. Evelynn turned around to put a couple of books that had been discarded by the questioning hands and nosy eyes of a customer back where they belonged and made her way downstairs to take her lunchbreak as her stomach commenced to growl loudly just after the dark haired man left the shop through the glass-door.  
A couple of minutes later she was sitting in a chair in the shop’s backyard, a steaming bowl of Mercy’s famous get-well-soup sitting in her lap. Dreamily Evelynn gazed into the bowl where the tiny noodles formed like horses and tiny people acting in a sort of play which she couldn’t get herself to interrupt. Her mother had made her that meal after Evelynn had left her bed which she hadn’t had a single minute of restful sleep during the past night. Mercy had a sense of always knowing when Evelynn was not well, no matter how well she tried to hide it, and when her girl wasn’t feeling well, she made soup. It was very much like a law of nature, Evelynn noted and smiled to herself. In front of her eyes, a noodle-man sitting on a horse challenged another noodle-man to a duel, who then refused due to him only standing on two rather than four legs. Softly Evelynn put her spoon in the bowl and poured a bit of broth into it, careful not to suck in the honorable actors as she noticed a slight movement in the corner of her eye and she looked up.  
The hair in her neck stood on end at what she saw. Her first instinct was to drop the bowl, maybe throw it at the intruder of the scene and take leaps to get back into the shop, locking the thick wooden door behind her. Every muscle in her body suddenly tensed up, but she did not move, only watching at what, or who just appeared in front of her.  
The creature looked at her out of glowing, yellow eyes that were looking at her from underneath black, bushy brows. None of its muscles moved as well, and it was watching her as much as she was watching him. A short time passed between them, the only sound they heard was their low, calm, deep breathing, until Evelynn decided she wanted to move something, anything. Slowly she reached out her hand towards the creature and murmured softly “Come here, boy, I will not hurt you…”  
The giant dog in front of her took a deep breath, pulling the scents coming from her deep into his lungs before huffing the air out. It came out in thick clouds from his black snout and mingled around his pointy ears which he angled towards her. His eyes watched her every move and all his senses were directed at her to figure out if she truly meant what she said. He had been lurking through the streets and alleys of Nocturn Alley, eating anything he could find without getting noticed by the preying eyes of the folk that lived there. He had become quite good at walking the streets without anyone seeing him, then again who noticed a dark mutt in an even darker alley? The life the dog had chosen was a hard on, and he realized exactly how hard it was when he immediately trotted towards the girl that was holding a few slices of chicken from her lunchbox. 

 

Five days had passed since then and the dog had become her closest companion.   
The first night had been the most challenging. When they came home (the wolf, whom she’d lovingly named Marauder, had led the way as if he had walked it a thousand times), Mercy noticed him scratching and shortly after discovered lice in his fur.  
Evelynn treated them with a couple of oils and a potion which, apart from leaving Marauder lice-free also made his fur a little less tangled. Even though Mercy had made dinner for her and her daughter, she hadn’t anticipated a third member in their household and therefore she gave the dog some squared raw meat. He went absolutely vivid when he smelled it and bounced in circles around Mercy as she tried to get from one side of the kitchen to the other where she placed it on the floor. Marauder didn’t even wait until she had set the bowl before him, Evelynn watched the wolf with adoration in her eyes. The little bugger ate like he’d been starving for a long time and knowing their neighbors, who very much cared for their customers and very little for stray, dangerous-looking dogs, it wasn’t very unlikely he’d been starving for even longer´.  
After all of them had finished eating, Marauder rolled up in a big black ball of fur and shortly after the two witches heard a soft snoring coming from him. It wasn’t until then that Mercy asked a question that had been bugging her since her daughter and her new acquaintance had stepped through her door.  
“One question, Evy dear, where on this earth and any other did you find that dog?”, she asked with a soft tone in her voice and a smile on her lips, but her eyes told of her seriousness in her inquiry.   
Evelynn smiled at her mother, the question wasn’t without any reason, especially these days a certain mistrust could prevent you from getting into serious trouble.  
“Actually, he found me.”, she smiled, her hands closing around her mug of tea.  
One of Mercy’s eyebrows quirked up slightly. “Do tell.”  
Evelynn shrugged, suppressing a yawn. “When I took a break to eat lunch I went outside and there he was. At first he was just watching me out of a dark corner, but I convinced him to come to me with a bit of chicken from my lunch. I don’t know, there’s just something about him, I have the feeling he understands what I’m saying…”  
Her mother had listened to her with a serious expression laying on her face. “This is very much like you, first yesterday-“ Evelynn noticed that Mercy had avoided the topic of Sirius Black altogether since she had brought Marauder home with her. “-and today you bring home a stray dog.” The older witch chuckled softly. “Please make sure there is no transfiguration spell on him, alright?”  
Evelynn nodded, her mother wasn’t wrong, for all they knew the kind, grateful dog could be anyone.  
They only talked for a few more minutes until both of them decidedly it was time to go to sleep.   
That night wasn’t one of restful peace for Evelynn.   
First Marauder sensed a smell in the air, a bitter, nervous stench that made his nose twist. Maybe Evelynn’s room was just too hot, he thought. Silently he rose to his paws and trotted towards her bedroom door. He smelt her scent easily coming from under the door, flowers, parchment and linen.   
The dog closed his eyes, partly to relish and memorize her scent until the nervousness hit him, this time stronger than before. He heard a rustling from behind the door, one of harsh, thrashing movement under the blankets, then a low scream muffled by something, maybe a pillow…  
‘She could be doing something entirely different, if it weren’t for that smell of… fear.’, the dog thought to himself and remembered his past life.  
He heard another low scream, stretched out into a whine. She sounded as if she was experiencing a lot of pain. Marauder’s paw scratched softly at the door, human hands were so much more practical.   
The thrashing coming from Evelynn’s bed had become even more violent, and a faint sound of sobbing sounded through the heavy wooden door.  
Why didn’t Mercy hear what he heard?, the dog asked himself and looked about the floor, but there was no other door to be seen. For a split second he contemplated whether he should search for her as a scent flowed from under the door that always smelled the same.  
Blood.  
He started to scratch more vigorously, his big paws leaving slight scratch-marks on the wood and sounded a soft bark that ought to wake at least one of them.  
The scent of blood alarmed him greatly and if it weren’t for her having a nightmare it was definitely for the blood that he had to get into that room.  
As the wolf thought about barking again, this time louder, the noises stopped and Marauder listened nervously into the depth of silence that followed.  
The rustling and crying had stopped and then he heard soft, weak steps from the other side coming towards the door. The dog took a step back, his eyes expectantly fixed on the wood, as the doorknob twisted and the door slowly swung open.  
Behind it stood Evelynn in a nightgown that ended just above her knees. Her legs were still shaking, she was leaning against the doorframe, in her eyes still a faint residue of the terror that had filled her dreams.  
“Hey, boy.”, she muttered, her voice was weak and broken. She went down to her knees and opened her arms, an invitation that Marauder happily obliged to. He snuggled into her embrace and listened to the sounds of her breath slowly calming down.  
He didn’t know how much time had passed when she slightly pulled away and looked him in the eye and it was just for a moment that Marauder almost forgot he wasn’t human, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t pull his eyes away from her gaze… He stared into those deep pools of moss and caramel and he felt like he was home.  
“Thank you.”, she mumbled with the kindest smile the dog had ever seen.  
Her voice lingered in his ears for a few more seconds, and he didn’t know what to think. After a few moments, he pushed his nose forward and softly licked the side of her face, the only thing he knew was similar to human kisses. She chuckled and softly ran her fingers through the fur on his neck and sides, then she rose to her feet and left Marauder uncertain whether to follow or go back to the kitchen and roll into a ball.  
She seemed to know what he was thinking and smiled at him. “Come on, you can sleep in my room. But no more barking, we don’t want to wake up Mercy.”  
He trotted forward and into her room which exactly looked like he’d imagined; small, filled with books and smelling just like her.  
Evelynn followed him suit and went back to bed.  
The rest of the night was a pleasant one with Marauder lying next to her bed and her hand softly scratching over his head while he guarded her dreams.

**Author's Note:**

> What did you think of it, leave a note if you want to, I will so respond to every one of them! Life long and prosper!


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